


You Let Me Know Everything's All Right

by Wawa_Girl



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Light Angst, Post-Movie: Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-15 20:30:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11238624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wawa_Girl/pseuds/Wawa_Girl
Summary: True, the memories felt different anymore. If Peter knew as a child what he did now about the man from his mom's stories, such tales would have inspired far less awe and a lot more justified rage.But that wouldn't change the peacefulness that resulted from such thoughts and memories. Nothing, not a single psychopath in all the galaxy, could change that."Another," an impatient voice demanded before Peter's eyes snapped back open and he was forcibly pulled from his own head.





	You Let Me Know Everything's All Right

_I am not here right now._

He wasn't.

_Not today, goddammit!_

He was somewhere else. Somewhere better.

Sure, during the first few doses he merely gritted his teeth and spit out a series of sarcastic insults regarding the unfavorable stench of his newfound company, well aware these remarks would not improve his situation.

But he soon accepted that he could not manage to escape while in their presence, and the only way he was going to endure was by imagining he was elsewhere.

It was nice, visualizing being in his own ship, lying in a comfortable position with Gamora, playing hide-and-seek with Groot, listening to music while flicking leftover dessert crumbs at Rocket as the rodent threatened to retaliate against his latest trick.

After about a dozen rounds, however, it stopped helping.

So now, he imagined he was on Earth.

He was with his mother. And everything was all right.

True, the memories felt different anymore. If Peter knew as a child what he did now about the man from his mom's stories, such tales would have inspired far less awe and a lot more justified rage.

But that wouldn't change the peacefulness that resulted from such thoughts and memories. Nothing, not a single psychopath in all the galaxy, could change that.

"Another," an impatient voice demanded before Peter's eyes snapped back open and he was forcibly pulled from his own head.

**********

"Don't you worry about that right now," the sweet blonde assured when her son asked about her next doctor's appointment.

Her now eight-year-old son who should be focusing on having a good night after a good birthday. "Not today, sweetie."

He couldn't help but ask, though. He was curious and nosy, and he knew that her last checkup didn't go well, if his eavesdropping on her phone calls to his aunt and grandfather were any clue. It was also how he learned that she had to go back very soon, and wouldn't be home after school the next day.

He could handle that. He liked being on his own sometimes. He just wanted her to be okay.

"Are you sur--"

"Shush," she said, and put her finger to the boy's lips. "Everything's all right."

Peter simply nodded. It _was_ a great birthday. They spent the afternoon at the park, where his mother had given him his very own Walkman and headphone set, including a tape she promised were the best songs worth hearing. Some of the other kids who attended the party found the gift less-than-impressive, but Peter thought it was awesome. He loved listening to his mom's favorite songs on the car radio, and now he could hear their top favorites on repeat whenever or wherever chose. She even titled the mix tape "Awesome" so it had to be. She didn't lie.

He played it the entire drive back, free to pick whichever songs he wanted, and before he knew it his mom was spinning him around and dancing to _The Jackson 5_ in their small but cozy home, only stopping when she believed any more would cause him to throw up his cake.

"Can I keep these on all night?" he asked pointing to his headphones, and she laughed and shook her head while gently removing them.

"Maybe wait until morning," she recommended, and placed the device on his bedside table. He pouted and crossed his arms over his lightly stained _Pac-Man_ pajama shirt, his mother making a mock pouting face back while taking away the piece of candy he was hiding in his fist. "But don't listen to anyone who says there's a better gift in the universe. Music lasts a lifetime, and when the people you love are gone, it's a perfect way to remember them." She ruffled her son's hair and looked into his innocent eyes. "You'll see. It can make almost any boring, dangerous, or terrifying situation fun, and give hope when it seems lost," she explained.

Peter liked the sound of that, but really didn't care what it all meant. He just couldn't get the cool beats out of his head.

She kissed his forehead and dimmed out the lights. "Good night, my little Star-Lord. Happy birthday."

"But it's not dark enough yet," he whined and sat up in bed, avoiding the star-filled sky out his window, instead eyeing the tape and thinking about how easy it would be to click it on and replay the tunes that wouldn't leave his brain.

Meredith sighed and walked back over. It _was_ his birthday. "Okay, one more song. And a story so you can't ask for one after," she said with a playful wink, and he excitedly picked his present back up. "The last time I saw your father, the angelic man from among the stars, it was before you were born..."

The boy tried to hide his frown while guility pushing the crumpled picture of David Hasselhoff farther under his pillow.

It wasn't that Peter _disliked_ hearing stories about his father. They felt like something he should want to know, but he often wondered how real they were. His mother didn't lie, but the rest of his family had a hard time believing the specifics of the man she described, and he sometimes wondered if she was telling half-truths to make him feel better about his dad not being around.

But he liked the stories, and he loved his mom, and was too pumped on ice cream and rock 'n roll dance moves sleep. So he listened, partially to her voice and partially to the words _'Ooh child'_ singing in his ears as his eyes drifted shut.

"I love you, Peter," the last thing he heard as the song ended.

**********

The Zune sat inside its speaker cradle, playing softly throughout the room while its owner slept.

When Gamora first found him she was surprised not to discover a single bruise, gash, welt, or burn anywhere on his body. She was starting to wonder if he had been physically harmed at all before she saw them: several long needles connected to empty syringes on the tables surrounding the unconscious Star-Lord. And upon further inspection of his skin, she eventually found the numerous injection sites.

From there it was a rush to unbind and wake him up as soon as possible, Drax having to shush her from where he was standing guard, prepared to decapitate any returning intruders.

She repeated their leader's name closer to his face, almost begging when he finally came to.

Had she not found the places where needles containing _who-knows-what_ were shoved into his flesh, her theory that he was unharmed would still have been immediately proven false.

His face and neck were completely red, obvious tear trails down his cheeks, hair slicked with sweat. His voice hoarse likely from screaming, the only things able to leave his lips being whispered pleadings and mumbled song lyrics. He was delirious, utterly exhausted, and terrified, and it took Gamora longer than she thought they had to convince him it was her and not one of his previous interrogators.

Once he understood well enough that this was a rescue, and not another round of pain, he was able to communicate feebly that he could not walk.

Relieved to quickly learn the reason seemed to be solely exhaustion rather than a permanent paralysis, she carried him out with Drax running close behind as they made a hightail for their much smaller transport ship.

Gamora was almost angry at Drax for throwing one of Rocket's bombs into the building after their escape. _She_ wanted to have the honor of introducing Peter's remaining captors to their early deaths.

None of that mattered the moment he stirred in bed, the warrior refocusing her attention.

"Peter?"

She was almost certain she heard the word "mom" mixed in with his half-dream mumbling, but chose not to question it.

"Peter, it's--"

"Mmmm...no. Nonononono, god no, please..."

"Peter. It's Gamora. You are on _The Milano_ ," she said firmly. She sympathized with his fear, but the most important thing was snapping him out of this state and reassuring him of where he was. "Peter, it's Gamora. Open your eyes, look at me." He obeyed, and stopped begging at first sight of the Zehoberei face. "You're home, you're in your room on _The Milano_." He sighed and nodded, the dread slowly leaving him as he remembered the successful liberation. "It's over, it's over, they're dead, you're safe now," she said gentler, lovingly petting his hair. "Everything's all right."

Several minutes of contemplative silence, tired breathing, and graciously gulping down cold water from the canteen she handed to him, before a whispered "Holy fuck."

"Yes..." Gamora echoed the sentiment, and wasted no time in trying to gain the necessary information. "Do you know what they gave to you?" she asked softly.

Peter only shook his head. "Hurt," he answered, and the assassin knew this must have been a gross understatement. "Hurt like a bitch. Each one worse than the last..."

She figured. Those monsters' way of inflicting torture without leaving much visible evidence had they survived and been prosecuted. _Imbeciles._

"Type of pain?" she further pressed, needing to gather all clinical data while he was conscious.

He raised an eyebrow and coughed. "Burning? Sharp, searing...does it matter?" he asked, slightly annoyed at having to relive and detail horrors he wished to forget.

"Mantis wants to know," Gamora explained. "She has basic knowledge of such things. It seems the effects have mostly worn off..."

"No kidding, since my blood vessels _don't_ feel like they're flowing with hot acid anymore..."

"...But we still want to take you to a doctor tomorrow," she informed him of their plans, already anticipating the protest.

"I don't need a freakin'..."

"The substance could still be in your system," she spoke over him, having none of his usual argumentative behavior. "You may need a detoxification or antidote of some kind. We won't have you negatively affected later because you insisted on ignoring it," she said, thinking back to when she first found every one of those needles. There were so many.

"Fine," he conceded and sighed. "But it doesn't hurt anymore..."

"Even so," she insisted. "It is most practical to keep you healthy. And...it makes me most comfortable when you are," she added with a smile that he returned. "Plus these could become infected," she said, gesturing to one of the injection sites on his arm that she and Mantis had done their best to properly clean and dress.

"Yeah, they didn't exactly seem like the most sanitary or cautious folks," he quipped, realizing he must have been awake for at least ten minutes, if the number of songs that had played and ended since he awoke were an accurate timing method, and it had been mostly spent talking about himself. _'You fuckin' selfish pussy,'_ he mentally scolded. "So no one ever found you before--?"

"No, no, we were fine," Gamora reassured honestly. "And once we tracked you we learned you were extremely close to where we parked and concealed the ship, so it would not have taken long for them to reach us if you _did_ talk. So thank you," she whispered.

"Would you be angry if I said another shot of that stuff and I may have told?"

"Yes," she answered without a blink. "So do not say that, because I know it is not true," she said and put a finger to his lips.

"My brain only considered it for a split second before I passed out? I wouldn't have done it, but my brain sometimes has traitorous ideas," he confessed with a hint of shame hidden beneath the humor, and she took hold of his hand, memories of their first life-risking mission flooding her mind.

"You held an infinity stone. I am pretty sure you can handle anything, Quill," she said, tracing the side of his face with her free hand.

"I was immortal then," he reminded her. "Which probably would've helped on a day like today," he thought aloud before correcting. "I don't wanna be, but just sayin'...some days it would come in handy."

"I believe that is the case for every living organism, but go on thinking you are special," she teased, knowing she should alert the others he was awake and seemingly okay. "And how many times _are_ you planning to nearly get yourself killed?" she asked, pretending to be annoyed by the trend rather than uncharacteristically frightened.

"I don't think they wanted to kill me," he replied seriously. "They wanted _Groot_ ," he spit out in anger, and Gamora looked surprised. She hadn't known that, so concerned for Peter's well-being she forgot to ask what his captors were after. "I'm pretty sure it's the only reason they wanted your location, knowing we have him. They kept muttering about 'getting our hands on the tree' and 'finally being able to dissect the tiny tree now that it's defenseless'. Sadistic _fucks_ ," he spit again, and Gamora was more than a little outraged at this knowledge.

"I think they knew Rocket from his past," she said once she calmed down. "At least, Rocket appeared to find them familiar when we got your location, and was oddly quiet from then on," she informed, causing Peter to only nod and shrug, and as if on cue, small footsteps padded their way into the room.

"I am Groot!" the little tree declared and ran up onto Peter's bed. "I am Groot!" he repeated in an affectionate tone.

Peter laughed. "Hey, you! Have you grown an inch taller?" he asked while Groot stood on his chest, and Gamora didn't know if he was simply being silly with the tree child, or was still a touch loopy. Peter had only been gone for a day and a half. Groot was growing fast, but not _that_ fast.

A small kiss was planted on the leader's cheek as the giver sweetly mumbled another "I am Groot." 

"Haha, you're welcome," Peter replied, understanding the gesture. Groot must have been eavesdropping. "You're safe with us. The bad news is you're still stuck with Rocket." Gamora huffed a laugh and rolled her eyes, and Groot moved down from Peter's shoulder to kiss the bandages on his arm where it looked like it hurt.

"Okay, okay, Groot, that's enough," Gamora said while patting the sapling's head, though Peter wasn't complaining. "Is Mantis busy right now?"

"I'm fine, Gamora, she doesn't have to--"

"I am Groot," he answered her, and Gamora held up a hand to cut Peter off. "Just tell her that Peter's awake and seemingly back to normal. We'll get him checked out tomorrow."

"Oh, and, uh..." Peter spoke up again, and Groot turned around. "You can also tell Rocket that I really am sorry about that trick. Ya know, making him think his tail was burnt off," he specified, as if Groot and Gamora _didn't_ know what he was referring to. "It was a dumb joke. Sorry," Peter said with a bit more sincerity than when he "apologized" through gasps of hysterical laughter after said prank the week before.

Gamora then understood why during Mantis' quick examination the empath stated that he was feeling "remorse" along with fear, gratitude, sadness, and a plethora of other predictable emotions. Gamora had worried he was feeling remorse over something more serious, but this did make sense given his situation. Rocket had barely spoken three whole words to Peter for ten days after his trick, and she was beginning to wonder how long their feud and prank war would continue.

"I am Groot," he said with a nod, and Peter waved a dismissive hand.

"Yeah, yeah, apology accepted for him farting into my mask. This time!" he added. "If that trash panda ever does it again, he is guaranteed roadkill. I swear, I would've gladly let myself die out in space to avoid inhaling that a second time," he said aggravated, Groot squeaking in fear, and Gamora glared at their pilot with a harsh _'Don't joke about that around the kid!'_ look.

"Not for real, not for real! Sorry," he corrected himself and put a hand over his eyes, and Gamora noticed his exhaustion again, deciding it was time to shoo the young one out of the room.

"Alright, Groot, go get ready to sleep. Peter needs his rest," she said, and the child gave him another kiss on the hand and jumped from the bed, spinning around and waving as if he had just remembered something. "I am Groot!" he said with a wide smile.

"Oh!" Peter chuckled. "Thank you!" He waved back, and gave Gamora a look that was a clear combination of _'This day has sucked, but he's worth it'_ and _'How is this our life now?'_ after the miniature plant skipped away.

They heard Groot recite his name a few times and Rocket grumble an understanding response, Drax and Mantis sounding relieved, as well. Gamora slid the door fully closed, returning to Peter's side. "You put us all through a rough day and a half, you know."

"I'm sorry, getting captured and tortured just sounded like so much _fun_ ," he faked a whine, giving her a _'Seriously, that's a stupid thing to say'_ glare of his own, because seriously, that was a stupid thing to say.

She softened and spun some of his hair around her index finger. "Do you need anything before we reach a clinic?" she asked and handed him the water again, cursing the distance. The Terran had to be starving, and she was grateful he hadn't mentioned it; they had decided against feeding him until they knew what was safe.

He took a few more slow sips and plastered on a presumptuous grin. "Well..."

"We are not going to dance _or_ make out, Peter."

"Jeez, a guy gets injected with a suspicious poison against his will _one time_ and suddenly he's _not_ still the most irresistible hero around," he muttered, because that level of bravado and courage deserved at least one _'Thank the galaxy that you're alive'_ make out session. "Fine." He was tired anyway. Long day.

She took his hand again, wishing she didn't need to let go. It felt like silence for longer than it was, and she didn't know if it was the appropriate time to say it.

Which didn't stop her. "Happy birthday, Star-Lord."

A smile spread across the Terran's lips, eyelids remaining shut. He was surprised that she remembered, unless she had simply translated when Groot said it on his way out. "Mmm, yeah, it's been a great one. Just wait and see the awesome mass of plagues and suffering we've got planned for yours," he joked, but held tighter to her hand. She sighed and squeezed it back before getting ready to leave him alone to rest.

"Go to sleep," she instructed and reluctantly stood.

"Without music?" he challenged, opening his eyes to look at her aghast.

Gamora rolled her eyes and walked over to the Zune. "It's on," she said and increased the volume. She looked over at him again, and knew he would have difficulty falling asleep on command. The day _would_ have been more special and relaxing for him, had this not happened. She supposed she could indulge.

"Do you want to hear about how Drax and I destroyed those lowlifes and yanked you out of there?" she requested, wandering back over to where he lay.

"Only if it's not a total snore fest," he teased with one eye open, and if he were any stronger she would have slapped his shoulder. "But I doubt it is!"

"I will give away the ending and say that their heads did not remain attached to their bodies for long," she began, smirking, and proceeded to detail the rest of their rescue mission.

There was not a single thing unbelievable or not awesome about this type of story. Gamora didn't need to exaggerate to sound like a badass, nor did he need to see their actions with his own eyes to know how much his team cared. He listened like a kid as she shared a tale of gore and heroism, one ear absorbing the Zehoberei speaking to him softly, and the other hearing _Blue Swede_ singing in his small but cozy spaceship bedroom.

He may have been treated like a lab rat and a stick pin doll for thirty-six hours, but when it was over, he wasn't alone. He was surrounded by friends who fought their asses off to protect one another, and looked after by a beautiful, caring, and near fearless woman.

Gazing out the window at the star-filled sky, eyes drifting shut, he knew everything was all right.

And he'd certainly had worse birthdays.

"We love you, Peter," the last thing he heard as the song ended.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to give myself cavities if I keep writing like this, and yet I apologize for nothing. :P
> 
> Hope you enjoyed my third shot at writing for these beautiful characters, and if you comment telling me what you think, you will be hereby dubbed the most awesome readers in the galaxy. ;)
> 
> My _Guardians of the Galaxy_ tumblr is [here](https://marypoppinswasmyfatherbitches.tumblr.com/)!


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